


First Flight

by Clockwork



Series: Raising Baby [2]
Category: Jupiter Ascending
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Post Series, baby brat balem, family affairs, mommy dearest, worst role models ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 07:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6365413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork/pseuds/Clockwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raising up the precious heir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Flight

The sound was a disastrous mixture of glass breaking, something much too much like bones breaking, and the uproarious laughter of a young boy causing a mess. It was becoming much much too common, and Jupiter barely even glanced up at the sound. 

Not until she heard Stinger’s curses, words in a language that she didn’t know, but the meaning and severity of them were hard to miss. Just as it was hard to miss the abrupt and sudden cessation of Bale’s laughter.

“Stinger?”

Nothing. No sound of tiny broken bits of glass tinkling against one another as the mess was cleaned up. No sharp words shouted out at the former commander, giving him orders as if the future heir came up to even above the man’s knee. Nothing. That couldn’t be good.

 

Pushing up from where Jupiter had made a small office space for herself in the corner of the den, she made her way to the kitchen, careful and hesitant, peering around the edge of the door. 

The wood that formed the braces on the kitchen window were broken into a half dozen different directions, the glass shimmered along the edge of the wood where it hadn’t entirely fallen away, sparkling along the edge of the sink and over the counter, and glittering in Bale’s dark hair, along the black clothes he insisted on, and definitely looked like rhinestones on the oversized, nearly as big as he was, probably weighed as much as Bale did, skyjacker boots.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

Apparently Jupiter’s curses were funnier than Stinger’s and the boy heir began laughing again. Speaking of…

“Stinger, where are you? Caine?”

Just beyond the window she saw a flash of something transparent and opalescent, the dragonfly gleam of the older skyjacker’s wings. Then she heard the heavy thudding of Caine’s own wings against the air as he descended to land. 

“Get in here,” she called, moving to peer cautiously out the window, though even Bale’s laughter rising was not enough to take the edge off her voice. “And you. Stop laughing. Why can you not just go back to the creepy whisper,” she sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes even as she pointed a finger at the child. “Do not move. Not an inch. Not until they clean you up.”

They were now standing in the door way, quiet and solemn, watching Jupiter as she moved to get a waste bin and dish towels so that they could get the broken bits of glass off the boy. Her son, though she was never one to admit that or even embrace it. Even if she did have a soft spot for the fun loving child that Balem had become.

“And I don’t want to see those boots on him again until he weighs more than they do. Do you two understand me?” She demanded to know, dressed in flannel and denim, disheveled and frustrated and not caring about any of that. 

She was Balem’s mother, their queen, and her word would be law. Especially if it meant not starting all over in trying to raise Balem right and not as a crazy sort of killer. Or explaining to Titus and Kalique how Balem had died while flying with Jupiter’s guard.

Still no answer, just a softer form of giggling as Balem pushed about bits of glass with his finger.

“NO! Not an inch,” she said, giving up on expecting them to do it, and moving to pick up the child carefully. “No owies, Bale. And no more flying.”

That was a mistake.

As much as he’d been laughing, the wailing came in an instant, sharp and pained, and as if she had put the boy over her knee.

“Bale loving flying! Bale fly with Stinger and Caine,” he sobbed, the words as much of a command as they could be when he had a voice as high as the buzz of Stinger’s wings. 

Even as he told her that, the boots started to hum, lighting up. 

Then her guards moved. Caine darting in quickly, jerking on his old boots to pull them from the boy’s feet.

“Later, Bale. Later we’ll fly,” he said, giving Jupiter a sheepish look even as he gathered the boy from Jupiter’s arms, not worrying about the glass as he pulled him close. “Come on, Kiddo. Let’s get you clean up while Stinger gets the glass cleaned up.”

“Flyyyyyyy,” he wailed, arms wrapping around Caine’s neck and clinging to him. “Promise me, Caine. Promise Bale fly again.”

“I promise, Kiddo,” he said, not looking at Jupiter as he said it. “One day you’ll fly again,” he said, moving to brush past her to take the boy to the bathroom and get him cleaned up. “And for the record, Your Majesty,” he whispered softly, standing shoulder to shoulder with her. “He screams like that because I haven’t ripped out his throat again.”

Jupiter stood there, dumbfounded. All they had been through and it had never occurred to her that Balem Abrasax, her son, heir, and would be assassin had been the entitled that had cost Caine his wings.


End file.
